by E. H. Lyon
“Whoa, that is good. What’s in this magic stuff?” I ask.
She smiles with pride. “Crushed pineapple, carrots, the usual, and I am experimenting with spices. Cloves, actually.”
“You really should look into opening your own bakery,” I encourage her as I take another bite of the cake.
Her shoulders sink. “Maybe. But if I look into opening my own bakery, then you should look into starting your own practice,” she orders as she tugs my shirt away from my chest.
“Are you trying to negotiate a deal?” I ask with a humorous grin.
“Perhaps I should. We both work too much.” It trails off into the air.
“I get to keep this cake, right?” I gleam, because this is some damn good cake.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure I put enough icing on it,” she tilts her head in different angles, studying the cake in front of her.
Letting my finger grab some icing from the bowl, I wipe it on her neck.
“I could think of somewhere else where we can put some icing.” I go in and lick the icing off her neck and she lets out a whimper, all the while she is grabbing at my t-shirt.
“Jake. NO. That will be a sticky mess,” she laughs. Her laugh is adorable. Infectious. It makes me want to smile, even if it’s a bad day.
“So, we can take a shower—together,” I continue to tease her neck. But she manages to escape my hold.
“You are very good in the shower. But maybe another time. I need to go, actually.” This disappoints me and she picks up on it and slaps my shoulder gently. “I really want to check out Navy Pier and maybe walk endlessly around a museum. My colleague said we could meet up since she also wants to check out some sights. I’ve been in the city a few weeks, and so far, I have seen my office and every angle of your place. That’s it.”
Every angle of my place is the only place in town she needs to know. But even I know the girl deserves the whole Chi-town experience.
“I get it.” I keep her hand in mine as she stretches her arms to reach for her phone to text her colleague. I reel her in back towards me. “You should go meet up with your colleague. But maybe I can take you for deep-dish pizza tonight after I meet the guys for a drink?” I realize I am entering dangerous territory, and to be honest, I normally don’t do this. But Avery is different, I enjoy our conversations.
She looks at me and tries not to let a smile show. “That sounds tempting, but I don’t want to let Sarah down.”
Because under this vixen is a person with a warm heart. Doesn’t take a genius to see that.
There’s an awkward silence between us as she bites her lip. I let her hand go so she can go change. But as she walks away, she stops and turns to me.
“I actually have these Cubs tickets from work, if you want to come. I know you hate to part from your work before 9pm, but it’s a night game later in the week.” I can see she’s not sure if it’s okay to ask, considering the rules of our arrangement. And sometimes I feel like she looks to me for the answers as I maybe have more experience when it comes to sex. But this is not sex. This is two people wanting to spend time together. And I do not even second-guess it when I say yes.
By end of the week, we are sitting in jeans and Cubs shirts in excellent seats at Wrigley Field, compliments of her office, watching the Cubs lead the Brewers, enjoying a beer and hotdog, talking about baseball because she has no clue.
Every time she has a question, she squeezes my arm and keeps our arms interlaced.
Every time the Cubs hit the ball, she nuzzles her head into my shoulder because she can’t look.
Every time she lets out a sarcastic remark, I give her a knowing look.
Because I know her now. More than just intimately.
I know how she hates unmade beds, pretentious bakeries, and some of my musical tastes. How she teases me about the fact I work a lot and how she likes to watch me work at my table. How rainy nights are her favorite. And when she asks for the time, she looks at my watch with a warm smile because she likes the fact it has a story. And how when she bakes, she’s in her own world. I know all of these things, because I know her.
And I do not want it to stop.
Her colleague comes to sit next to us as she arrives late to the game.
“Hey, Sarah. This is Jake. Jake, Sarah.” Avery motions between us. We both say hi to each other. She seems like a decent gal, my age and lives locally.
“A good game,” Sarah comments. “Normally baseball bores me to death. Hope you’re enjoying the game, Avery. Cubs fans can get a little crazy.”
“Yeah? I think Chicago people get a little crazy with any Chicago team.” Avery cracks out a laugh.
“Ah well, at least you have a boyfriend to show you around. Bars around here celebrate like crazy if the Cubs win.”
“Oh, well, Jake isn’t—” Avery looks lost for what to say and how to correct Sarah on the boyfriend comment. I wrap an arm around Avery’s shoulder.
“Yeah, Jake will show her around,” I reiterate. Avery just looks at me with a death stare and a smile she is trying to hide.
“Hope the rain will hold off. Rain delays are no fun,” Sarah says.
“It’s supposed to rain? How did I miss that?” Avery asks, and there’s a hint of excitement in her voice, which makes me smile and tighten my arm around her.
The Cubs do win, and when we leave, the skies open with rain. Someone above is being good to me tonight. Especially as it’s not sprinkling, it’s full-on need-to-run-for-safety open skies. This only makes Avery laugh more. A contagious laugh.
“Come on,” I yank her with a smile as we head away from the crowds exiting the stadium. No way we will grab a cab in this. I know a place we can have a quiet drink, hidden away. The rain picks up as we walk, and I see a covered detour. Motioning to her, I pull us into the alley with a green awning. My pull was strong enough that she lands against my chest. We’re soaked from the rain and it just makes her laugh more.
My long finger and thumb reach under her chin and tilt her head up so she’s looking at me, my mouth in particular. My hands move to clasp her cheeks and she brings her lips to my inner wrist for a gentle kiss before turning her mouth back in my direction, her eyes looking up to me with a sparkle.
“You always kiss my wrist,” I mention softly.
“I don’t know why. Maybe for the memory of mezcal in your kitchen. Maybe for the fact that it’s where you keep your watch that is so important to you. Your wrist is a special spot. I like it,” she explains easily and innocently.
Looking into each other’s eyes, we both revel in this moment. There is only one thing we want. Our mouths come crashing together for a kiss. Not just any kiss, but a long lingering and deep kiss. When we pull gently apart for air, our eyes meet.
The plan needs to change. She is too enjoyable to be just a fling.
Chapter Seven
Avery
“A little more to the right and move it closer to the middle,” I indicate to Nate with my camera in hand. He listens and moves the cocktail to the position. It’s late afternoon on a weekday and there are only a few people in Matchbox as they get ready for the evening crowd. A mix of indie folk music is playing on the speakers.
“Thanks so much for helping me with my Instagram photos, especially after Tank destroyed your cookie batch. I never knew there’s a whole world of Instagram and cocktails. I guess it’s good marketing. And when I saw your cake photos and heard you used to work at a marketing firm, then I figured you could help,” he explains.
In truth, I could use every distraction I can get. Memories of Jake have been playing on a loop in my head. My body wants one thing, my mind is going in all directions, and my poor little heart is making me feel things I thought I’d recovered from. I am not avoiding Jake. I’m just scared of what will happen when we talk or we fu—
Okay, Avery, own it. Ugh, I am avoiding Jake.
I just do not know how to be around him.
How do I do this? That man changed my life. No
w I carry around a souvenir of guilt and I don’t know how to make it right. And I want to make it right. I wonder if this is going to be a long process of fixing and repairing? And what do I do if he wants neither? We have so much to catch up on, so much to discuss. We could be two different people. Time does things.
My. Head. Is. A. Mess.
The last few days, I have been running an extra mile to clear my head in the mornings, baked extra cookies to relieve stress, and admittedly looked at some old photos on my phone that were buried in the cloud. Shock wore off and turned to a mix of excitement and desire.
Hope. It turned to hope.
Focusing on the task at hand, I look at Nate with a smile. “No problem. And since you are repaying me by telling me the secret for getting the lemon supplier at a discounted rate, then consider us even.” I grab the next cocktail and position it.
“Again, I am so sorry about Tank. I know it has happened a few times now, but he’s going to a dog trainer every week,” Nate apologizes as he lets his thumb scratch his cheek.
Nate is a great guy, just not my kind of guy. But as a friend and fellow local business owner, then he is at the top of the list. And with his looks, I am certain there’s a list of women waiting for him to rock their world.
Taking my ankle boots off, I’m left with my skinny jeans and black V-neck shirt with lace edging. My hair is down, and I have a few bracelets on my left wrist. I hop on the bar. “That sounds promising, I guess.”
“What are you doing?” he asks, amused.
Standing on the bar, I lean over the lemon-colored cocktail in a tall glass with a lime on the edge. “I need a better angle and it’s good to have a few photos from an above angle. How many more cocktails do we have?” I ask, busy with the camera. Just like I do at the bakery, I take one day and do all the photos for the coming weeks.
“Two more. Maybe these two should go together?” He brings another similar-looking cocktail with a different glass next to it.
Immediately, I get on all fours to get a better viewpoint.
“You really are amazing at this,” Nate adds.
“Amazing on a table, she is,” that recognizable voice announces from behind me. “Is she a new feature of the place? Because it is quite a view.”
I can guess what look is probably thrown on his face. I have a library of options.
My stomach jumps from this unexpected visitor, and my heart rate surging makes me think I need to upgrade my insurance plan to include spontaneous heart failure. I freeze a little before turning my head slightly to look behind me and find Jake standing there. His eyes hazed and face firm, yet his slight glare tells me he is enjoying the view. Really enjoying the view.
Brushing off his comment, I focus again on the task at hand and stand up on the bar again. “Last one, right, Nate?”
Nate changes the drinks and doesn’t seem to pick up on the fact that Jake is watching us with a hardened look. I’m not even wondering why he is here in the middle of the business day. That’s not the guy I remember.
“Hey, man, thanks for coming. Just give me five minutes to finish with Avery and then we can look at the contracts,” Nate informs Jake, and I have my answer about why Jake is here. Something business related.
My eyes cannot help but look at Jake who is loosening his tie. Damn, that move can make me feel like liquid in one second flat. He doesn’t seem too thrilled that Nate and I are interacting, and it gives me butterflies as I always liked his protective nature.
“Sure,” he responds, short. Our eyes meet and there is some tension, if I have to be honest. Just can’t figure out if it is anger or sexual.
“You know what, guys? I think I’m done,” I inform them.
“Are you sure?” Jake says. “You should stay and have a drink. I’m sure we can get you a glass of mezcal or a bottle.” Jake’s lips twist in at the corners.
Ah, so it is sexual tension.
My eyes lock with his as I briefly let my mind remember our first weekend together. My head giving him the gentlest of shakes as my jaw moves to the side in slight delight.
Realizing that I am standing on a bar and one of the men in front of me may just be undressing me with his eyes, I snap into action mode.
“Right. So, I’m just going to get down if someone can help?” I ask with uncertainty in my voice, as to who will be my hero of the hour.
Nate is about to open his mouth and offer a hand, but he does not have a chance.
“I’ve got this, Nate,” Jake insists as he motions his hand for Nate not to move. Nate doesn’t question it and quickly heads off to somewhere.
Stepping to the ledge of the bar, Jake’s hands are waiting for me. As soon as our hands touch and I bend down, he steps closer. Letting his strong arms wrap around my waist as he pulls me close and off the bar. We press together as my body slowly grinds down his. By the laws of science—of course—my arms wrap around his neck. Our eyes meet.
It’s warm, it’s comfortable, and rushes of memories of how he touches me returns. Most of all, this encounter sends a confirmation to me that he still makes my blood boil with anticipation and desire. Briefly, I get to drown in the intensity that I share with this man when we are sharing the same air.
And he knows this. He knows this because I don’t let go when I could have ten seconds ago.
Whispering into my ear, he asks, “This is familiar, no?”
Gulping his smell of fresh spring and feeling his breath, I hide my tremble within me. My eyes look up to him.
“Jake,” I give him a playful warning.
He interrupts me before I can continue. “Cloves?”
A smile forms on my mouth because I know he tried my cake. “Yeah. For that extra kick,” I admit with my fist making a little gesture. It is only then that I notice I am still in his embrace and my hands have found their way to his hard chest, as I gently claw his crisp white shirt.
He remembers that day in his kitchen where I made a carrot cake while we talked and played checkers, after doing so many other things.
My fingers walk up his tie, and I know I am giving him a smoldering look as I peer up to his eyes.
“Like the tie today. I’m sure it is good for many things.” Okay, that line just flew past my filter and it was a little sultrier than I intended.
His tongue circles inside his mouth in delight and his grin tells me he feels a slight victory.
Just like that, I remember that if we eventually talk, then a little flirtation is maybe okay. Because that is how we have always been together, and it seems that hasn’t changed. That gives me comfort.
Before Jake has the chance to return a counter remark, Nate returns.
Jake and I instantly pull away after our moment, giving each other a knowing look of our eyes clouding with want. I can’t be imagining it.
Nate hands me a paper. “Here is the supplier number and all the information. Thanks again for your help, and I promise you Tank is in the doghouse for the rest of the week. You know, if you want someone to look over your supplier contracts, Jake here sometimes helps me out with that stuff.” Nate explains this with only good intentions as he has no clue the full history that I have with the man in a suit next to him.
Taking the piece of paper from him, I bite my lip. “I know, Nate. Jake and I know each other, remember?”
Jake has a wry smile. “Probably too much conflict of interest there.”
“Oh right, sorry. I forgot my bar is the magical place for reunions.” Nate grins.
“My guess is Jake’s hourly rate is too expensive for me anyhow,” I say, not letting my eyes leave Jake.
A sly smirk forms on Jake’s face as he holds our gaze. “I am sure we can work out a mutually beneficial arrangement for that.” That was sizzling with sexual innuendo, that I am sure of.
Nate clears his throat, clearly catching on.
Bringing the paper up to the air, I speak. “Thanks, Nate. Anyhow, I will leave you two to your meeting.”
As I turn around
to leave, I don’t get far. Jake calls out my name and I turn to look at him.
“Drinks tonight?” he asks, calm and patient. As if he doesn’t want to push me, yet he is hopeful.
“Yeah, sounds good. I’m meeting Jess anyways at the bar on Fifth, so maybe 8?” I give him a warm smile.
His hand reaches for my face and he lets his knuckles graze along my cheek. “It will be good to really catch up with you.” It comes out so honest that it makes me want to count the seconds until I see him again, and that is only to talk.
After heading home to my apartment to quickly change, I put on a long, casual, blue cotton dress with buttons, tights, ankle boots, and I leave my hair down. I carefully chose my outfit. Just in case.
The thought of our good times overwhelms me. The thought of his hands owning me, lips devouring me, and our long talks crosses my mind, always has.
When I looked in the mirror earlier before I arrived at the bar, I could not help remembering the overbearing fact that time has passed. And that is okay, I like who I am now. But I do not know what time has done to him, or us. People change, and it’s been five years.
Sitting across the low table from Jess, I am enjoying drinks at the hotel on Fifth. Not only a hotel, but a great restaurant and lounge. Oversized sofas and a crackling fire in the fireplace make the atmosphere warm. The type of place you would want to have a cozy break during a day of skiing, or a weeknight glass of wine with a past lover.
I’m not a fan of clichés, but this place nails it for tonight.
After talking about how fast Sam, Jess’s toddler, is growing and debating what is wrong with the new design of our local organic food market, Jess changes the topic to my business.
“By the way, I heard you are up for a Sagey—the award for best local business.”
“Oh yeah, I heard something about that. What a ridiculous name for an award, yet slightly catchy,” I admit, taking a sip of wine.
Jess holds her hand up. “That’s a big thing, you should be excited.”
